Confessions
by of untold secrets
Summary: Because some secrets are meant to stay hidden. Because some letters are meant to stay unread.
1. Chapter 1

**This is the result of boredom and an over-active imagination.**

**This is set after StWaOES, in case anyone's wondering. And there**** might be a few spoilers, so don't read if you haven't finished past that book!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own this, JP does. You should know this by now.**

**Warning: Possible suckiness/OOC-ness below. You've been warned!**

Dear Max,

I don't know when you'll get this letter. Maybe tomorrow, maybe in five years, maybe never. But still, I have something to say.

You see, I have a confession.

I have never wanted to save the world.

Wait, wait, wait. Before you come and strangle me or something, at least let me finish first.

Even after the world was saved, even after Itex defeated, I still had my doubts. Had anybody come up to us, the Flock, and nicely asked us whether we could save the world? Had anyone ever given us a choice? All we had were the words and encouragement of the Voice and Jeb, neither of which we were sure could be trusted.

Before we had split up, I had argued with you for the safety of the Flock. But I had left for my own pride, and nothing else.

There was another reason why I didn't really want to save the world.

After all, what did we owe to it? It was the world's fault that we had grown up in dog cages, being experimented on. It was the world's fault that Iggy was blind, that you wouldn't trust anyone in authority, that Angel had experienced things that that no six-year-old should ever experience. It was the world's fault that we could never, ever live a normal life. What did we ever owe to the world?

Why should we help something that has only given us fear and hardship? Why should we risk our lives for that?

But you know what had given me the determination to help you through with saving the world? The Flock did that. You heard me right.

Nothing is as encouraging as seeing a six-year-old and a twelve-year-old have fun, laughing with each other no matter what they had endured in the past. Or watching a blind guy make bombs and practical jokes with Gazzy. Or just seeing _you_.

Yes, you Max.

You're the one who had given me the most strength help save the world. To help you through with finding safe places to stay. To be your right-wing man.

The rest of the Flock may have had some influence in that, but you were the one who had helped me the most.

You're never going to see this letter, aren't you? No, I'm too much of a coward for that. The most you're going to see of this is of ashes in a fire, I'll make sure of that.

Anyway, it's nice to have some secrets within the Flock. And some secrets are never meant to be told.

Fang

**R&R?**


	2. Chapter 2

**For some reason, I've decided to continue this, if only by another chapter.**

**If any of you are readers of my other story, Phoenix, it's put on a very **_**short**_** hiatus until I get my ideas straight.**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Oh, and this chap's about Iggy.**

Dear Mom and Dad,

Remember when I was four at the School and you came by my cage every night to check on me?

Remember when I was six and lost my sight and you rocked me to sleep?

Remember when I was nine and you helped the Flock escape from the School?

Remember when I was twelve and Jeb had left, and you held me, soothed me, let me cry on your shoulder?

Remember when the School captured the Flock and you were there, telling me that everything's going to be fine, that we'll find a way out?

Remember? Remember?

No, you don't. You don't remember because you weren't there, was never there. Not when the School took away my sight, not when we were rescuing Angel. Not ever.

And when the Flock finally did find you, you took me in with a smile on your face, a fake smile hiding visions of greed and moneymaking behind it. You lured me away; tried to erase my identity; wanted to make me the one thing I didn't want to be: a sideshow freak.

I was your son, you were my loving parents. So why didn't you treat me the way other parents treat their children? I have been to many places, done many things, but I have never found a single parent that wanted to market their child. So why you?

I trusted you explicitly, told you almost every secret the Flock and I kept. I had lavished in the attention that you've given me, attention that I have never had before.

Now, I know that I was wrong. I was wrong to trust you, was wrong to be flattered by your care. But you were my long-lost parents—how could I not resist?

Once, I was naive. I had thought that finding my parents would solve all of my problems, like you would protect me the way a mother duck would protect her brood. I had thought that you would erase all of problems. I was wrong.

I had put all my trust into you. How could you betray that?

But the past is the past; it can not be changed. The future is what I look forward to, and sadly, it does not include you.

Yes, you've read that right. I don't need parents, not anymore.

No, I have my own family. One that accepts who I am and respects my thoughts. One that I've been with all my life; one who I trust completely and without question. One who's never let me down yet.

I have the Flock.

From, Iggy

P.S. Don't expect to hear much more from me.

…Oh no…I've made this too tragic and rude again. Sigh…great—wait Gazzy! Don't write that part down! Now I _definitely_ can't send this. Gazzy, I thought I've already told you to stop writing! Gazzy! Oh, great—

**If any of you didn't catch the last bit, Gazzy was 'accidentally' writing down everything Iggy was saying.**

**Yeah…sorry for the shortness and OOCness.**

**Review? Please?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks to all of the reviewers!**

**This chapter's about Max, set at the end of StWaOES. As always, there will be spoilers, so watch out if you haven't read the first three books!**

Dear readers,

You call me Max. The leader. The one who brought down Itex. The great Maximum Ride.

What have I ever done to deserve such a title? After all, I am just a kid who happened to have wings. If things have turned out a little differently, Ella, Ari, or even that subway guy with the laptop could have been in my position, pressured to save the world.

You've probably read my books, heard the stories. You probably know more about the Flock and my life than _me_, even.

So why do you all have this idea that I'm some kind of cool, kick-butt leader? Nudge is cooler, Angel more talented, Fang just as tough, if not more.

You think that I'm saving the world purely out of the goodness of my heart? I don't want to do it, but I have to. To survive. I'm saving the world for my own sake just as much for yours.

You think I'm quick-witted and smart? Who decided to cut the chip out of my arm with a seashell? Who ran away form Fang because of a _kiss_? Who lead the Flock into all those traps and ambushes, who wanted the chip out of my arm at any cost? Right: me.

Sure I appear tough, confident, and strong to the outside world. But that was mostly for the Flock's benefit. Who wants a nervous wreck leading them into who-knows-where? Because that's what I feel inside most of the time.

I only half-wanted the chip out when I sliced my arm open. Seriously, the other half of me had considered suicide--it was all just too much, at that time.

You don't have to worry about me offing myself any time soon, though. My family needs me too much; I need them too.

They're the reason why I still get up each morning; why I still face each day. The Flock might think that they depend on me, but in reality, it's _me_ who needs _them_. They're the reason why I still am here today.

The world sees me through a thin veil—a veil that they had put up over their own eyes. People see what they want to see, and they want to see a strong, confident leader triumphing over evil.

Sure, they can believe that if they want to. But the truth is that I'm far from their vision of me.

Inside, I'm just that scared, worried little kid that peers through the bars of her cage in fear of what's going to happen

next.

**Review? **


	4. Chapter 4

**This chapter's about…-drumroll- Nudge!**

Dear Max,

Iggy's been trying to get me to write this for a while now, so here it is.

Sorry for leaving the Flock...I know that I hurt you a lot. I'm really sorry about that.

But can you understand why I left for the school? Can you?

I mean, look at me. I am freakishly weird, I have wings, I have, for my whole life either been a) living in a dog cage, being cruelly tested on by whitecoats, or b) on the run. Except for that short stay with Anne, which turned out to be disastrous, I've never had a chance to live like normal people.

And I'm tired of hiding and secrets, of running and fighting. Do you understand why I want to be normal, at least for a few hours a day?

At the time, that school that Jeb had suggested seemed to be the best opportunity for doing that. I mean, it's in a remote place, with high security, and gives people to learn stuff and be like normal kids.

I knew that you weren't happy with the Flock's decision, but at the time, I didn't care. I just knew that we were going to a school, were going to get actual _education_. I was being selfish, and I apologize for that.

But even when the rest of the Flock wanted to leave, I still felt that way. I wasn't ready to leave such a place, an oasis in the desert of our life. Can you forgive me?

By now, you're probably wondering why I returned to the Flock at all.

Why? I loved you all, far more than school. I don't like being alone, much less alone in a building full of strangers. Sure, everybody was nice and I learned a lot and everything, but I just wasn't _my life_. You know?

I felt like there was this hole in my heart where the Flock used to be. I kept turning around to show Gazzy something, or to describe to Iggy what the room looked like, or to ask you what our emergency escape plan was, before realizing that you weren't there.

I had lived too long with all of you by my side, and I would never want to change that.

But I thank you for letting me go, for allowing me to make my own choices. I thank you for that.

Before my stay at the school, I have wondered several times whether the Flock would ever settle in one place again, whether we would ever belong anywhere.

But I know the truth now.

The place we should settle, the place where we belong, it's not any physical place on earth.

It's with each other.

From, Nudge

**Remember: this letter wasn't ever sent. **

**That chapter wasn't one of my best…sorry for the shortness.**

**Review to tell me what you think!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks go to: nm-maximumride4eva, Caris L. Clearwater, Flight at Midnight, pinkcatheaven, and emotionalpoemgirl!**

**Now for Gazzy's chapter…**

You guys have been asking gazillions of questions on this blog, and usually, Fang answers them all.

But now it's my turn to answer some of them.

Or one in particular.

Am I jealous of Angel's power's? Sure I am.

Do I covet (I've gotten Iggy to explain this word for me) them? No, actually, I don't.

It's not like I'm really religious or something, but I really don't covet Angel. She's my sister after all, and the talents seem to suit her better than it would me.

Do you get jealous if your brother or sister gets better grades in school than you? Maybe. Do get murderously envious of them? Probably not, as far as I know.

See, it's the same with Angel and I. (How's that for good grammar?).

Maybe she can do many things better than I can, but I can do some things she can't (no offense to you, Angel, if you're reading this).

Sure, Angel can read just as good as Max and Fang, if not better, but can she build bombs? Sure, she can read and control minds, but can she mimic voices? Sure she has a whole lot more powers than I do, but can she do some of the things I can?

See? The scale is more even now.

Sometimes, when I wake up in the middle of the night, I wonder why I'm not as 'talented' as my sister is. Sometimes, I feel jealous 'cause even though Angel's two years younger than I am, Max and the Flock seem to need her more. Sometimes, I wonder why I'm even in the Flock.

I mean, Max is the leader, Fang is second-in-command, Iggy is the chief bomb-builder (and cook), Nudge can hack into computers and stuff, Angel is like, a gazillion positions all rolled into one, and Total is in the Flock to provide some comic relief (just kidding, Total. I love you too.).

But what do I do? How do I help the Flock?

I do my best to not add to the Flock's problems, but how do I know that I don't just slow them down?

But still, I'm reasonably content the way things are at the moment.

Right now, I'm happiest eating Mexican food, or building bombs with Iggy, or just spending time with the Flock. I'm not going to let jealousy get in the way.

So there you have it, my answer. A mixed-up, confusing one, but still an answer.

Fly on,

Gazzy

P.S. Anybody else got a question they want answered? 'cause I can—

Oh no. Fang's coming. He's gonna kill me for stealing the laptop…I better post this fast. Um…bye for n—

**Review?**


	6. Chapter 6

**As always, I thank all of the awesome people who reviewed! That includes:**

**- emotionalpoemgirl**

**- nm-maximumride4eva**

**- Midge 1012**

Dear readers,

Do you think I like being the freaky little girl? Do you think I want to be the 'bad one' in the Flock?

Do you?

Why am I always the one in the Flock that never ceases to try to undermine Max's leadership?

I don't read the books, but I can tell from your minds that that's what you think of me. Why? Must you always trust everything you read?

I don't read the books, I don't read the stories you write about me. But I know enough about each.

If I'm not the evil maniac plotting to rule the world, then I'm the matchmaker, or a cute little kid who just stands in the background watching as everyone fight but does nothing. Why must you write me like this?

Sure, I may have gone against Max's orders a few times, but how many of you have not gone against your parents a couple of time? Can't you guys just understand that I'm just a little girl? Albeit one that has wings and powers, but still a little kid at heart.

Don't take this the wrong way, but I don't get why you must write my character like this. Sure, I'm flattered that you _do_ write about the Flock and I, but why must I always be the bad guy?

Nudge might be the one in the Flock that thinks she is an unnatural mutant, but _I'm_ the one who's really a freak. After all, what seven-year-old has wings and mind-reading powers? I can talk to fish, and can turn into birds of paradise, too. But what does that make me? With every power that I receive, I feel less and less human. Less and less like I _belong_.

And who wants to love some kind of half-human freak? Do you?

And what good do I do for the Flock? I may be able to warn them of an Eraser attack, but what can I do to help fight their way out? I may have all of these powers at my disposal, but what can I do with them to actually help others?

Sometimes, I think that I would be better off without any powers at all.

No, I'm not looking for your sympathy. All I'm looking for is some acknowledgement that you've at least understood and accepted some of what I've said.

Because if you just strip away everything that the School has given me, you would not find some world-dominating power, or some fortune-teller of the Flock's doom—you'd find something entirely different.

Underneath all of the extra bows and ribbons and fluff, I'm just a normal little kid, looking for some love and acceptance in this world.

**Sorry for the sucky chapter.**

**But this isn't the end of this! There will be at least one more chapter after this one.**

**Review? **


	7. Chapter 7

**Now, it's Total's turn to have a say!**

Dear whomever this may concern,

Paper is a wonderful thing, you know that? It listens but never speaks. It obeys but quietly offers its own ideas. It comforts but needs no comfort.

But never mind. I'm not staining my teeth yellow with pencil wood to tell you the wonderful qualities of paper.

No, I'm staining them yellow for a completely different reason.

You see, for a dog, I'm quite old. Well, in my middle-thirties at least, according to your human standards, which is plenty old.

I have been able to do things no other dog have done before, been able to travel many places, flown to the ends of the earth (quite literally, I tell you). But, still I want to be remembered in some solid way, want to have some record of my existence before I die. Consider this as an informal will, if you wish.

I am the dog. The little cute, black Scottish terrier-like mutant forever fated to be the Flock's sidekick.

I have no material possessions apart from the fur on my back and the thoughts in my head, which are of no importance anyway.

But if any of you wish to have them, just read on.

I have no childhood that I can recall…no happy memories of romping around in the soft spring grass or of snuggling up against a loving mother.

My first memories were that of other experiments. Mutated, grotesque things most were, but one thing never changed: few of them survived past infancy. Some die after only a few days, some after weeks. Whether it was because of the horrible living conditions, or of the cruel tests, or just because they lacked the will to survive, I may never know. All I knew was that I was surrounded by dying sentient beings, always living in fear that I would be next to die.

And so, I watched the Erasers. At that point in time, I thought that the Erasers were the only successful experiments, and it pained me to watch them.

Why? I'll answer you.

The Erasers are huge. They are strong, fast. They are smart and reasonably quick-witted. And yet, they still die—only about half of them survive past the first few months.

I look at these 'viable' experiments, and see how even the strongest, the deadliest, die.

How can I, a tiny Scottish terrier-like thing live in a place like that when they can't? How?

Then the Flock came.

For once, I felt wanted, felt like I had the slightest chance to survive. But that's not the case.

I still depended on others to survive, still can't protect myself. I probably am slowing the Flock down; after all, most of them didn't even want me in the first place.

I don't know what I am—I'm not even sure if I _want_ to know. But my DNA must have been mixed with something co-dependent and cowardly. How else can something be so dependent on others?

I want to be completely human—able to live in this huge world where people rule supreme. Humans can take care of themselves. They are smart, creative, and, out of everything on Earth, most likely to prosper.

I don't want to be a dog. I want to be a person. I want to be independent. I want to say that I _live_ because of my own four paws, not because I was babied and protected my whole life.

I want to be strong.

Sure, I appear to be confident and knowing, but really? I'm still just a little puppy, staring wide-eyed at the big, dangerous world. I'm as scared and self-conscious as anyone else.

Sure, I seem outgoing, slightly self-centred, and sure of myself. But really?

I just want to be a little bit more.

**Yeah, it's weird and all over the place…I realize that****.**

**There's one more chapter left in this story…**

**Review?**


	8. Chapter 8

**On with the (possible) last chapter!**

**Thanks go to Midge 1012 for pointing out a mistake in this chapter, and virtual homemade chocolate chip cookies to everyone who's reviewed!**

To: everyone

We are the Flock.

We are the bodies of but few. We are the voices of many.

We have outlived generations of experiments, saved countless lives. We have _survived_.

And yet, we are still wanting.

Not one of us is whole or complete or perfectly content. Not one.

We all have letters never sent, truths never spilled, secrets never told. We all have something hidden, deep inside us, where only our own minds can reach.

I am Fang. I am the second-in-command, the dark one, the silent one. I am the one afraid to give what I have not received.

I am Iggy, the pyro, the cook, the blind birdkid. I am the one who has no need of mothers or fathers, the one who knows that having the Flock is far better then anything parents can provide.

I am Max. I am the leader, the tough one, the one terrified of dropping my mask of confidence and strength in favour for the luxury of just being myself. Because it might mean losing everything I love.

I am Nudge, the chatterbox, the girly-girl. I am the one who was forced to choose between family and freedom. I am the one who chose family.

I am Gazzy. I am the prankster, the pyromaniac-in-training. I am the eclipsed sun, the darkened moon, the one whose dim glow is forever outshone by another. I am the one content with what I have.

I am Angel. I am the mind reader, the scary little girl, the traitor. I am the one often badly thought of, the one never understood. I am the child hidden beneath an adult's talents.

I am Total. I am the dog, the mutant. I am the one forever overlooked, the one whose confidence is just a thin veil covering what I am inside. I am the one dependent on love. I am here.

See? None of us are whole. None of us are complete. But separate pieces make up a whole, and every one of us help make up the Flock.

We lean on one another for support, we help each other when the problems hit. Maybe we aren't perfect, but we help one another the best we can in getting to the finish line.

And that's about as close as you can get.

From: the Flock

**Technically, that was supposed to be the last chapter...**

**But if enough of you guys want, I can extend it by few chapters, maybe. Like as a postscript. But if I do, don't expect any updates for a while 'cause I've got to work on/finish some of my other stories first. **

**Review? **


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